


Blind Art

by NotWithABangButWithAWhimper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Artist!Dean, M/M, Rimming, Tattoo artist!Dean, Top!Cas, blind!cas, bottom!Dean, dirty talk!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1508306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotWithABangButWithAWhimper/pseuds/NotWithABangButWithAWhimper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever Dean, a tattoo artist, comes home with a new tattoo, him and Cas play a game.  Because Cas is blind, he has to guess where it is, and when he gets it right, Dean will describe the colors of it, the shape and components while he traces his fingertips over the still raised ink.  Warning: smut and disabilities.</p><p>Don't have a beta, so all mistakes are mine, but message me if anyone would be willing!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Galaxies

Dean was grinning as soon as he pulled his keys out, knowing Cas would hear the jingle, hear the scrape in the lock and start walking towards the noise. Opening the door was awkward with his left hand, but he didn’t mess around with healing ink, and his shoulder wasn’t even an hour old.

Cas was standing where the kitchen and living room met, a thin little hallway crammed with their extra bookshelves. Mostly it was Dean’s books that were overflowing from them, though recently Cas had been sticking braille in there as well, everything from manuals and examples of art and tattoos to Dean Koontz, and maybe there was a John Green book on there. Or all of them. Cas couldn’t ever tell what he was reading, it’s not like anyone knew, alright. 

His blue eyes were crinkled up with a smile, albeit cast down. Dean whistled, and Cas blushed. He was in low slung flannel pajama pants and a wife beater of Dean’s that had seen better days. Grey slashes from old oil, brown rusty blotches from old blood, cuts and rips and holes, but hey, it was clean. Ahh, well, last week it was.

Routine established years ago, Dean walked to Cas while he stayed still, waiting patiently for Dean to come greet him – Marco polo around the living room was a hassle. Dean cupped his left hand to Cas’s jaw, fingers weaving into his hair and tugged his face up. Ducking his head down quickly, he pressed an open mouthed kiss to Cas’s chapped lips. Sweet and soft, full of a long day away from each other, the bite of the needle, and an overwhelming tenderness that Dean couldn’t ever hide around Cas. He couldn’t see, but he sure seemed to be able to pick apart Dean without any problems ‘fucking spidey senses, they took one and he got an extra.’

He slipped his hand under Cas’s where it rested on his chest and intertwined their fingers. Pulling apart far enough to just rest his forehead against his partner’s, Dean whispered, “Wanna play?”  
Cas tilted his head slightly, “New tattoo?”

Dean nodded slowly. Cas was quiet, taking the moment very seriously. He always took the game way too seriously in Dean’s opinion. “Somewhere on your right arm, you normally touch my face with your right but you didn’t today.”

Smiling, Dean nodded again. “You already have the constellation on your forearm and that quote circling your bicep. That leaves front or back of shoulder, doesn’t it?”

“You never know. I could have filled out a sleeve.”

“Possibly, but you’d never say. So, no.”

“Where is it then, Sherlock?”

Cas leaned forward, aim unerring, pressing a hungry kiss to his mouth before whispering “Shoulder blade”

Breath catching, adrenaline that had made him jittery now surging south, Dean whispered “yeah.”

“Can I touch it?”

“You’ll have to pull the wrapping off. But yes, always.”

Stripped of his shirt, wrapping placed upside down on the kitchen counter, Dean faced away and Cas lightly skimmed his sensitive fingertips over the new shape. Dean spoke, “It’s a galaxy swirl. Deep purples and blues, nearly black and navy but brighter, I guess, with stars interspersed. There are red lines, and a little orangey-yellow, but they’re sporadic, more like streaks or highlights than anything else. It’s big, about eight inches across and five or six up. In long, thin writing over the top and under the bottom it says “There are galaxies between my bones and I will love you until all the stars burn out.””

Cas was slowly tracing the letters now, tender fingertips able to feel the shapes with the still-raised ink, before pressing a warm kiss to the back of Dean’s neck. “I love it,” he responded.  
“I love you.” Dean couldn’t help, it fell out. 

Cas’s light touch continued for another few minutes, until it dissolved into him laying soft kisses on the surrounding area. Dean bit his lip, trying his hardest not to moan. Between the adrenalin and Cas’s kiss earlier, he wasn’t going to be able to keep it together much longer. “Cas,” he breathed out, and heard his lover laugh, light and happy against his back, vibrations rumbling through his skin that was in contact with Cas’s mouth. 

“Yes?”

“I…Cas, I need…”

“Yes.” And he laid one last kiss to the skin just under the words, and started walking towards their bedroom, fingertips trailing along the wall until they touched the picture they’d hung directly across from their bedroom door. Following him in, Dean started to figure out logistics. They’d had to do it before – with how many tattoos he’d gotten since he opened his shop, it was unavoidable that sometimes, some areas would be too sensitive or too sore. The week he’d had his hips done and couldn’t stand Cas backing up into him for a few days had been hell.  
“Have your mental picture of me adjusted yet?” he murmured into Castiel’s neck, hands slipping under the tank top to trace over burning hot skin. “How are you always so warm?”

“Yes. And you’re fucking gorgeous, god, so gorgeous.” Castiel whispered back, arching up into Dean’s touch, “And it’s because I’m hot too. You’re not the only attractive one. Nerdy is cute.”  
“Oh, Cas, you’re hot as hell. I’ve been hard since I walked in. The way those sweatpants sit on your goddamn hips. It’s gonna make me explode.” Tugging both of their shirts off, Dean pressed his chest flush against Castiel’s back, breath quickening at the feeling of all his smooth skin. Reaching up to tangle a hand in his hair, Dean turned Castiel around, mouth moving to his immediately, tongue slipping in to wrap around Castiel’s, his chest tightening when the vibrations of Cas’s small moan trembled through his mouth.

“Want you,” Cas breathed out, breath catching and breaking the word. 

“Bed’s right behind you,” Dean whispered, before taking one step forward so Cas’s calves hit the bedframe, and pushing him down slowly. “Can you move up a bit? I want to straddle you.”  
Cas scrambled up a foot, until he felt the pillows underneath his head and then laid his arms open at his sides, waiting for Dean. He felt the heat of Dean’s skin as he lowered himself over Castiel’s hips, and reached down to smooth sensitive hands over the rounds of Dean’s thighs, fingertips moving until they’re lightly gripping his ass, pulling the cheeks apart, having lid under his boxers. 

“I like when you just strip down for me,” Castiel murmurs and Dean’s mostly hard cock goes to pulses and gets so hard he whimpers. Cas talking in bed, that deep rumble of his voice could make Dean come by itself. It has before. Well, it’s the voice and his absolutely filthy fucking mouth. Out of bed, Cas is polite and kind and genuine, and people take that for a lack of confidence. Reality is that he’s so confident he doesn’t need to posture. He knows he’s great, he knows he’s smart and nice and a good person. He says exactly what he means, all the time. He’s reliable and interesting and more than his disability could ever overshadow. But when it’s just the two of them, and Cas has something he wants (like Dean) sucking him down or pushing into him, Cas gets so uncontrollably dirty he can bring Dean off without ever touching him. 

Reaching up and under the pillow, Cas grabbed the lube they kept in bed, flipping the cap with practiced ease and as per usual, Dean’s breath left him completely when Cas showed any sort of confidence and ease of movement, surety in his surroundings and what to do. Drizzling the right amount onto his fingers, he reached around and placed his index finger pad right against Dean’s hole. 

Dean’s cock was leaking, bobbing against his stomach, and he leaned forward to brace his arms against the bed next to Cas’s head, preparing himself for the breach but when he put his weight on his hands, his shoulder twinged. Shit, he wrenched his hand back up, leaning back up to brace his left hand against the top of the headboard. Cas felt him shift and smirked. “You still want to ride me?” he checked.

“It’s not like I can be on bottom, resting on my shoulder.” Dean grit out, trying to keep his ability to speak through Cas’s soft probing fingers pulling in and out of him, annoyingly steady and intoxicatingly distracting. Pulling his unused arm up to rest his hand under his head, Cas licked his lips, “You could fuck me,” he offered.

Dean shuddered. The way Cas ate it up so greedy, fucked himself back into Dean, hard, every time, just moaning and shuddering and utterly wrecked over it was incredible. But the way that Cas gasped when Dean rode him with everything he had, the way he whimpered and arched up into Dean, bucking his hips up and gripping Dean’s sides and hips so hard he left hand shaped bruises was even better. Just his complete lack of control to do anything but fuck up into Dean. 

“I wanna fuck you from up here. Take you and wreck you,” Dean growled. Cas’s hips bucked involuntarily, sliding his head along Dean’s cleft, both of them holding their breath when it passed over Dean’s hole. “Fuck, please, Cas…”

Grinning again, and pulling his hands up under his head, “Do it yourself. I wanna see you really fuck yourself down onto me. I wanna feel you stretch that pretty hole, feel you sink down onto me until I’m balls deep. I want you to ride me, fucking yourself down on me until I come and then I want to eat out that little pussy, eat my come out of you and clean you up until you come. But you can’t touch yourself while you ride me. You can come as many times as you want, but you can’t touch yourself at all tonight.”

“Oh god, baby, please…”

“Is that a please, yes, or a please, fuck me, Dean?”

“Please, yes, fuck me, please…”

Reaching down, Dean gripped Castiel’s shaft. Pressing the fat smooth head against his hole, Dean shuddered as he started to rock against it. 

“Oh, precious, you feel so good. I love the way you feel, taking me, giving yourself to me of your own accord.”

Biting his lips, Dean rocked down hard enough to take the whole head inside him, and he sighed. Cas felt so good. He made Dean feel so full, so stretched out to the point where he couldn’t think of anything else. Breathing in deep, Dean slid himself up and down a few times, and then just sank deep onto Cas’s cock. Cas inhaled sharply. “Fuck, Dean…” his hands moved to Dean’s hips, thumbs resting in the divot of his hip bones, long fingers wrapping around until they touched the top of his ass. 

“Go, Dean. Fuck me. Come on, baby, come on,” and Dean let go. Slamming himself down onto Cas’s hips, angling away from his own prostate, he pounded himself down over and over. Until his hole was fluttering, his body sweating, dripping onto his lover, who was bucking up into him, getting him so close with his head pushing onto Dean’s prostate every time, hands bruising his hips in a perfect fucking counterpoint of pain, completely wrecking his hole. 

“Close,” Cas spat out, gritting his teeth hard before letting his mouth fall slack open, pumping come into Dean, ramming his cock up into him as he finished. Dean fell forward, coming all over Cas’s chest and stomach, balancing on his left arm, his right hand worming its way behind Castiel’s sweaty neck, hair messy and sticking to him. Cas started to settle, limbs becoming heavy with post-orgasm exhaustion. “you’re incredible,” he whispered, slipping it in between open mouthed kisses. 

“mmmm,” Dean hummed back, grinding his hips down on Castiel’s softening dick, dazed out on the feeling of his boyfriend underneath him until Cas starts to sit up. Grumbling, Dean pulls himself up. 

“Shift over, sweetheart,”

“Cas, I was…”

“I know baby, just shift, please, onto your hands and knees.”

Dean pulled himself off of Cas, resting his left elbow onto the bed, his knees spread wide, finally remembering what Cas had promised, his dick twitching in renewed interest.  
Settling himself down on his stomach, Cas hooked his elbows around Dean’s knees and pulled him down. Dean’s face was buried in his elbow, and Cas started to slowly and softly lick up and down his crack. Breath finally returning to normal, the soft licks were actually comforting. Warm, slow, sensual and sweet, Cas continued lapping at him, moving up to his hole, softly pushing the tip of his tongue into Dean, moaning at the taste.

Dean could remember the first time they did this, Cas asking if he could lick his come out of Dean after they’d been together. He’d been shy, hesitant, and quick to make sure Dean knew that if he didn’t want it, he didn’t have to and no pressure and it’s just something Cas like, it wasn’t something he needed, and…but his backpedaling fell away when Dean whispered “Fuck,” and kissed him, sloppy and wet and hungry, despite the fact that he’d come just a few minutes ago, and turned onto his stomach, hitching his hips up and slipping a pillow under himself, presenting, his mind offered. You were presenting for him, showing him you’re his.

Dean had come twice more before Cas had been satisfied, the last one just a dry surge and twitch, a small trail of pre-come like fluid dribbling out of his spent and used cock, the pillow underneath him ruined. 

In the present, Cas was tonguing his open and relaxed hole, soft pressure and one finger inside Dean to softly and gently stimulate his g spot. Flinching every time Cas brushed over it, Dean’s cock started to fill again. Overstimulation had always been a way to get Dean going again, the overwhelming sensation just made Dean surrender to it. Cas was tonguing deep inside of him, then moving back and licking at his rim, laving it with the flat of his broad tongue, moaning and humming softly, two fingers in him slowly scissoring, stretching and moving around Dean’s hole, until Dean was whispering a litany of “Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh god Cas, Cas, Castiel that feels so good, fuck,” and the he was coming, untouched again, hips jerking, shoving Cas’s tongue deeper into him, his cock pulsing out come into the sheets, seeping over his stomach. 

“Dean, you always taste so amazing.” He heard Castiel whisper, too far gone to rouse his self and respond. 

“I love you so much,” Cas murmured into the skin of his back, kissing his way up Dean’s body.

“Just so fucking incredible,” he spoke into Dean’s collar bone.

Eyes drooping shut, Cas settled onto Dean’s chest, running his hands over Dean’s skin, double checking the wrapping he’d put back on Dean’s shoulders. He couldn’t ever get enough of Dean’s skin and the way he kissed and the way he tasted and the way he felt. Could never be close enough.


	2. Blind Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Dean gets a new tattoo, him and Cas spend a little more time in bed. I promise I'll get past the smut soon lol. This chapter is a little shorter than the last, as I wanted to update before getting to some actual plot. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

During the night, they’d somehow switched spots. Dean found himself sprawled across Cas’s chest, right hand tucked between his warm side and the bed, left arm twisted and cramped beneath him. Raising his face a little, he nuzzled his nose into the soft spot under Castiel’s jaw, smiling at the scratchy stubble. He needed to help Cas shave again. He loved helping him with it. Cas could do it just fine himself – over the years he’d figured out how to do it sightless. But it made Dean’s heart swell when he got to take loving and special care of him, when he got to devote his complete attention to him in an act of service. He’d leave it for a few more days though, or until Castiel mentioned it. He liked the scruff. 

Grumbling, Cas rolled over, right arm reaching out and wrapping itself around Dean’s shoulders, kicking the blankets out of the way so his legs straddled sleep-hot skin over Dean’s hips, and Dean’s breath caught. God, Cas was so soft in the morning. Canting his hips, Dean pressed his morning wood against the soft line under Cas’s balls that were draped over his length, loose with heat and sleep. Cas made a snuffly noise in his ear, Well, it wasn’t not a moan, right?

Spreading his hands wide, Dean slid them around Cas’s hips. Jesus, but he loved the soft skin there. How he could knead it with his hands, take control of Cas, really have a firm grip on him. Gliding his hands further down, gripping and spreading his ass as he ground up a little again, Dean heard Cas’s breath catch, and resume a little more labored than before. Regretfully letting go and patting the blankets around them, Dean found the lube by his armpit. He lightly slicked up a few fingers and slipped his hands beneath the covers again, grabbing Cas’s ass hard. He loved that, gripping and groping the strong muscle. Fuck, but Cas’s ass was a work of art. He slipped his fingers down Cas’s ass and softly pressed one to his puckered hole. Relaxed and sleepy, he had almost no trouble pushing it in further. He slowly and softly fucked his finger in and out for a few minutes, grinding up into Cas the entire time. His head was leaking pre-come, sliding trails of it over Castiel’s balls. “Want more?” he rumbled, voice still hoarse from disuse and moaning the night before. 

Castiel just tightened his grip around Dean’s neck and nuzzled his head closer. Dean grinned and gently pushed two fingers into Castiel’s hole, and was rewarded with his first noise. A choked off whimper, needy as hell, escaped from Castiel and Dean rolled his hips up especially hard in response. Fuck, he’s gonna kill me. Dean was hard as fuck, pulsing and throbbing against Castiel’s now slightly drawn up balls. A minute or two of two fingers inside, and Dean fucked three up into Cas, grinning at the delicious moan that dropped out of Castiel’s mouth onto Dean’s skin. “Fuck, babe. You feel so fucking good,” He ground out, focusing on speech was getting difficult. Castiel’s hips spasming, though…The way they bucked down onto Dean’s fingers, fucking his fingers up even harder, had Dean nearly gasping. “You wanna listen to me talk, babe?” 

Castiel nodded into Dean’s collarbone, lips wet from licking them over and over suddenly pressing into Dean’s skin, soft and smooth and the wetness cooler than his skin. “You feel so good, baby, such a good boy for me in the mornings when you’re all pliant and hot and loose. I love being able to slip my fingers into you and have there be nothing between us, feel you grinding your gorgeous fucking ass onto my fingers.” Castiel’s cock throbbed, trapped between himself and Dean’s stomach. 

“I want to own you just like this, I want you to come on my fingers from grinding against me, barely awake,” Dean was growling into his ear now, nipping and licking at the lobe and the soft space behind it. Castiel gasped, drawing one knee up against Dean’s side so it was by his ribs. “Does this feel good? Do you like when I’ve got one hand fucking three fingers up into you and one holding tight to keep you still? Answer me.”

“Fuck, yes, yes Dean I love it. I want to come all over you with your fingers buried in my ass, god please move faster Dean, please…”

“Fuck yourself on my fingers, grind against my dick,” Dean ordered. Feeling Cas fuck himself submissively onto Dean’s fingers, groaning and sweating on top of him…fuck, Dean was going to blow. This needed to happen faster, or he’d never last. “Come on baby, let me feel you really fuck yourself on my fingers,” he whispered to a Cas who was already shoving his ass down back against Dean’s hand, and his dick grinding hard and sporadically against the top of Dean’s and his stomach. “Do you want more? Want one more finger, to really feel that stretch of your slutty ass?”

“Fuck me, oh god, yes, please. Give me another finger, fuck. Let me fuck myself on four of your finger.”

“God, such a good boy,” Dean slid his pinkie in alongside the other three, his thumb pressing deep into the meat of Cas’s cheek. “Such a good fucking boy, fucking himself like this on me, goddamn it Cas I’m going to come right now, all fucking over you.”

Cas whimpered, biting into the thick tendon of Dean’s shoulder and neck to stifle it, and that was it. Arching his back, mouth open and eyes screwed shut, he fucked Cas roughly with his fingers, fast and knuckles catching on his rim, brutal as he pressed Cas down against him at the same time, grinding his dick up so hard it almost hurt, as he came over and over, wave over wave washing over him as he came all fucking over himself and Cas.

Nails digging into the back of Dean’s head, Cas followed quickly, rutting against Dean’s come covered stomach before letting loose a low, guttural moan that grew until he was all but roaring into Dean’s neck, pulse after pulse spilling over Dean, leaking onto the bed sheets now. He pressed a warm open mouthed kiss softly to the bitten part of Dean’s shoulder. That’d probably bruise. 

Dean’s hands slid softly up from Cas’s ass to cup his shoulder blades. “Fuck.”

“Bacon, eggs, and toast with the black berry jam,” Cas murmured after a minute.

Dean still didn’t know which way was up or who was on top of who. “What?”

“I want bacon, eggs, and toast with the black berry jam.”

“What the fuck ever, get it yourself.”

“Dean, I don’t know how to tell you this,” Cas was solemn, “But uh, I’m blind. I can’t cook.”

“Shut the fuck up, you made burgers three days ago,” Dean laughed. 

“Must have been your other boyfriend.” Pretending to be hurt, Cas let his voice break, “You can make it up to me for cheating by making me bacon, eggs, and toast with the black berry jam.” He paused. “And getting a towel because we’re already starting to dry.”

Left arm bracing against the bed, Dean tipped Cas back over onto his side of the queen sized bed. Grimacing, he felt the cold oozing down his stomach and walked stiffly to the bathroom. He watched the spunk slide stickily down his stomach while he waited for the water to heat up. It was definitely Castiel’s turn to wash the sheets. He wiped himself off and tossing a hot rag onto Cas’s stomach as he walked by on his way to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not blind, and I've never slept with a blind person. If anyone on here has, and wants to let me know of any logistic aspects that made it interesting or different, I would be hugely grateful. I tried to portray it here, but again, I have no reference point.
> 
> All tattoos in this fic are ones I have, ones my friends have, or ones I want.
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos! Maybe it'll motivate me to actually finish a fic!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not blind, and I've never slept with a blind person. If anyone on here has, and wants to let me know of any logistic aspects that made it interesting or different, I would be hugely grateful. I tried to portray it here, but again, I have no reference point. 
> 
> All tattoos in this fic are ones I have, ones my friends have, or ones I want.
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos! Maybe it'll motivate me to actually finish a fic!


End file.
